


The Curse Beneath

by Mikato_Dragos



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikato_Dragos/pseuds/Mikato_Dragos
Summary: A ShionxReader fanfic where you are a yukkuri farmer. Lemon (R18!)
Relationships: Shion Yorigami/Reader
Kudos: 1





	The Curse Beneath

**Author's Note:**

> The Curse Beneath  
> Hidden easter egg. hint: 1=A, 2=B  
> \- PTO, Mikato, and Retujy
> 
> Primer: Yukkuri are personified manjuu (bean-paste buns). They get sweeter with pain, but too much pain and they get anti-yukkuritis, causing them to go bitter. Youkai are supernatural beings, usually urban or historical myths.
> 
> Map: https://yukkuri.shii.org/posts/86200  
> Barn diagram: https://yukkuri.shii.org/posts/86201

They say that a youkai haunts this land.

You wish you could simply blame it for all your problems. But Auntie is gone now, and pointing fingers won't do anything. You pat the brown soil, smoothing it over, before thudding a large stone on top of her grave.

It is insultingly sunny today, but just as well. You don't cry - so your sweat is a replacement. The rock feels polished underneath your fingertips, and you hold onto it weakly, for she was your last remaining relative.

Father died ten years ago, the thunderstorm roaring across the night. Mother rushed out with a revolver. She was always paranoid. It may have been her final act of revenge against life itself - the final act of her life. You were eight then, the crackle of the thunderbolts seemingly illustrating - for a brief moment - a large round shape, supporting an apparatus that held the spirit of Zeus himself. You'd laughed when Auntie told you about a man called Tesla with a magic coil, but you'd trembled in fear, hiding under the table, as the storm raged on.

The next day, Auntie tried to hide the bodies from you, but you saw the bodies, the same color as the burnt, blackened soot of leaves in the clearing. She was the one who retained her senses, lacing barbed wire around the forest, covering the barn with thick, black strips of rubber, and clutching a shotgun if ever that… thing decided to attack.

Eventually, winter came, and the storms subsided. You both told yourselves that it was just a one-in-a-million accident, that they just happened to be standing near the tallest trees. The next years didn't raise any red flags, so you told yourself, again and again, until it sank in: whatever you saw that night was a hallucination.

Flan settles on your hand, a faint burn whistling up your arm as she nips you, reminding you that there's work to be done. That you can't just stay here, mourning, forever. Auntie wouldn't have wanted that. After a longing glance at the graveyard of six - now seven - gravestones, you turn away, and head towards the barn.

It used to be a beautiful red construction, but the red slowly faded away, replaced with the black of the polymer. There are solar panels on the roof, a gift from a friend. They churn electricity reliably into a large lithium-ion battery, which gives you heating and Wi-Fi. The rubber has long been peeling off the wooden walls, and your right hand fidgets with a piece idly while the other unlocks the building's main doors, next to the left side of a North-South road. The forest is a few kilometers away, in the north-west, and the graveyard is just a little south of the house. 

Inside, there are two rows of cages, one on each side, facing in. They are stacked fifteen long and three high. A floor balances on each row; you will come to them later. Each cubicle holds either a fattened Reimu or Marisa type, shaved bald but still wearing accessories, their mouths filled in except for a small circle used to deposit food and drink. Their gibbous eyes stare at you - some wanting help, others wanting revenge. They will get neither.

You step down the long corridor, pausing to toss sweetened gelatin into the food funnels of a few particularly inactive ones. Instantly, they wake up, before joining the rest in a cacophony of twisted visages. At the end of a barn is a ladder; you place it onto the port side of the barn. Tall plastic walls have been buttressed into the planks, draped by black rubbish bags. It stops the happy family inside from seeing the reality of the farm, and makes it easier to clean. The Marisa is out on a hunting expedition aiming for the stale vegetables you've hidden in a corner, while Reimu is sleeping with her koyukkuris in a creased cardboard box. The setup - and indeed turn of events - is duplicated once more. There's no worry of noise; seals on the plastic roof keep the sound in. You have two breeding houses that are changed once every fortnight, to make sure genetic mutations and impotency aren't as likely, and to make sure happiness doesn't build up too much.

It is not an understatement to say almost everything is geared towards the suppression of anti-yukkuritis.

The rough, frayed wood grinds against your hands as you carry the ladder to the other side, where the living quarters are located. You fish inside your pocket for the key, and are rewarded with a click that cuts through the farm's muffled mumbling. It opens into a room, with two beds - a large one meant for your parents, though it is now yours, and a slightly smaller one still crumpled from Auntie's sleep last night. You don't tear your eyes away from it until Flan flies in your face, and you wave her off, walking to the safe in the corner.

The code is 16-1-4-19, and you snap open the door, pulling out thirty dollars. There is around ten thousand dollars there: the result of a three-generation yukkuri farm. The hinge swings shut with a solid thunk, and you fumble around your desk for Flan's meat-flavored pet food, which you pour into her pink bowl. She rubs your chest before flying off to her meal, and you step back down, presently checking the paper on the cages.

The date is November the fifteenth, meaning sell date for mid-September's yukkuri. You slide out the marked cages one by one, and carry them to the pick-up outside the barn. The rusty metal scrapes against your skin as you remind yourself once again not to grip the merchandise too tight. The barn doors slide shut with a slow creak before you lock them, and you walk to the car.

It is a dirty white Toyota Tundra, two doors, and you tie down some green canvas, covering the cages. You wonder childishly if you should scrawl a Flan there, now that nobody will stop you, but decide against the unprofessionalism. The familiar cloth seat holds you firmly as you start up the vehicle, turn left onto the road, and head into town.

Your cheap music player cranks out Touche Amore through the car's tinny speakers, and when it plays Reminders - you just pull over, crying into the wheel. You remove it from your playlist, and sometime later, make it to the city, at which point you dial down the volume.

The lower-middle-class apartments litter the outskirts, and you drive inwards, to the greyscale concrete of the office buildings. However, at a quiet turnaround, you yank the wheel, maneuvering the truck into a side alley. The concrete bears down from both sides like a monopolistic urban company, save only for a side door. You carefully slide out of the car, the metal emanating a faint clunk against the walls - and sure enough, the door opens as you lock the car, providing you with a friendly face.

A lanky, long-haired man steps out, his charming features fresh against the dull backdrop.

'Del-kun!' you say, and he raises his hand in greeting.

'Hey, man. How are you?' he asks.

'Fine,' you lie. 'You?'

'Same. How many this time?'

'Eleven,' you reply.

You unhook the tonneau cover and crawl onto the truck bed, passing the cages to Del. You glance over each of the livestock; you won't be seeing them again. Del collects the farmers' yukkuri and coordinates with preparers (affectionally called big brothers and sisters by some, and as "abusers" by PETY) who skillfully educe the sweet flavors until - just before anti-yukkuritis hits - they perform the finishing blow. The drained paste is sent back to Del, who then sells it to restaurants and factories as an ingredient. Red bean paste is a common delicacy.

'We should have cake sometime,' he remarks, leaning against the roof of your car.

'Nah, I don't have time to, especially since - '

You don't want to say it out loud. It would be like admitting it. But he grabs your wrist, and leads you inside his house. He pushes you onto the soft couch, and holds you loosely.

'No, I'm okay, I really am - ' you reassure him, but his grip tightenes.

He's not usually this fervent.

'My mother died a week ago,' he admits hoarsely.

He's about to say something about how he empathises, but you just hug him back, and he gives in. You console him, ask him about work, tell him about a dessert recipe - anything to keep his mind steady. Eventually, like the old times, you're laughing along with his tales of the new preparer, pretty and big-breasted, but how everybody thinks she's a youkai because of her sharp, sharklike teeth. 

When his sister comes home, he looks at the clock belatedly, because it's already eight, and, after paying you eleven hundred dollars, hurries you out the door. Through the gap, you see his tomboyish sibling quietly crack open a case of his favourite chocolate mousse, and you know he'll be all right.

You reverse out the alley, and cautiously drive through the intersections. You haven't stayed out this late for a long time, and you watch the people trudge home to their bright apartment rooms. The roads slowly open up, and once you see the tinges of green grass, you turn the volume up and accelerate as fast as the 150hp diesel will allow you. 

You're humming along to 'Just Exist,' the growl of the vocalist rebounding in your mind.

'I was once asked how I'd like to be remembered and I simply smiled, and said I'd rather stay forever… It was quite possibly my loudest cliche but felt better than just walking away!'

You gaze sleepily off into the darkness. The filament bulbs don't reveal much, but the road does seem bumpier than usual. In fact, there's a particularly large one ahead -

except this is a person -

and you jerk the car left -

and skid twenty, thirty meters off the track.

Panting slightly, you press the Music Stop button, before digging into the door pocket, and pulling yout a yellow flashlight. Its 300 lumens spin across the ground, as you mentally pray that you won't find a mangled corpse. Instead, your light finds a teenage girl who looks not scared - but dumbfounded.

'No.' Her soft voice thickens the air, her breath cold against the frigid air.

'No! I can't - I don't have the power to do that!' she abruptly screams.

'Excuse me - are you okay?' you call out.

Her dark eyes flicker to you, and though her face is contorted in a mixture of sadness and anger - she discerns that you're there - and she's already on the ground, kneeling to you, and filling the silence with constant apologies -

'It's okay,' you answer gingerly.

You don't know what has you feeling so sympathetic. What you do know - is that people don't wander the streets at night unless they are struggling through deeply rooted problems.

'Hey,' you say to the girl, 'what about I serve you dinner, and you can spend the night at my place?'

For some people - time is the solution.

She stands up slowly, warily, and as the song replays itself in your head -

'I'm a youkai.'

I'LL SUFFER THE DAY JUST HOPING FOR THE BEST -

BUT THAT'S NOT TO SAY THAT I DON'T THINK THAT ALL OF THIS CAN CHANGE.

'A - a youkai?' you ask. The question slips out of your mouth even before you realise that - if she is what she says she is - you should be more careful with your words.

She looks unfazed as she confirms - 'yeah, I am.'

Her dark hair, like the night, twirls around her absentminded finger. She steals a brief glance at you, and upon noticing your silence, breathes out a long, supple sigh. She raises her left leg, and wordlessly -

CRACKS it down on the tarmac.

You tense away momentarily at the slam - when you look back, onyx stones of asphalt surround the hole. Maybe it's the moonlight - but you see blue smoke dissipate.

'Leave.' The word is not so much a command as a statement, her drawl cutting into your frozen body.

Then, with a blunt voice, seemingly hardened by history, but without any threatening undertone: 'please - you wouldn't want to stay.'

It is almost pitiful - as if she had unintentionally hurt humans in the past.

You realise something. This girl - no, this youkai - could be the key to knowledge about your parents' death.

'You look like you're in a tough spot,' you begin, and when she doesn't reply, you continue, 'at least - it's dangerous to spend the night outside.'

She opens her lips, as if to say something - but closes it again, simply nodding her approval. You shift the torchlight away from her eyes, partially because it must be blinding her and partially because you need something to do.

'Alright, get in the passenger side,' you tell her, and she stumbles over the cracked tarmac, just a little, before rightening herself. You unlock the passenger door, and she settles into the seat tensely, before remembering to buckle up her seatbelt. You make your way over to the driver's side.

The engine starts with a crackly rumble, and you shift the car back onto the tarmac before accelerating. The dull vroom echoes around the cabin until you speak up.

'If you don't mind me asking - what's your name?' It's a probing question, you think, but a standard icebreaker nonetheless. She doesn't seem to mind.

'...Shion Yorigami,' she pronounces.

'Nice to meet you, Ms. Yori-'

'Use Shion,' she cuts off. First name basis? you think, until she explains, 'I have a sister.'

The pause implies she is loath to continue, so you speak up.

'Shion. It suits you.'

'...'

'Mine's [y/n] [l/n].'

'Thank you, Mr. [l/n].'

'No, call me [y/n]. It's only fair when I call you by your first name,' you say, and she thankfully seems unconfused by your babble. 

'[y/n].'

As if she's getting used to it.

She's a little hesitant, almost cute, but you push the thought from your mind. It's time to go on the offensive.

'Shion - can you control lightning?'

'No.'

Sensing her reluctance to explain her powers past a small demonstration, you don't push.

'I've heard…' and she takes time picking her words, '...that the messengers of Heaven can control lightning.'

Leaving aside her claim that Heaven existed -

'I'm guessing that they don't meddle much in human affairs, being messengers?' you ask, a hint of energy in your voice, and when she does not confirm, you think you might be right.

'...why do you ask?'

There's a little suspicion, and you wonder if you should tell her. You decide to do it - she knows something.

'My parents were killed by lightning bolts.'

She wavers before speaking, as if remembering something. 'No, the messengers don't intervene. But... have you heard of yukkuri?'

'Yukkuri?!' you blurt. How are they mixed up in this? Then you answer her question: 'Yes.'

'The thing is - every yukkuri type has a real-life person equivalent.'

'So,' you work out, 'you think a yukkuri of Heaven's messengers killed my parents?'

'Probably.'

This girl is giving you more information then you know what to do with.

'If I die, you can have the farm.'

She doesn't thank you - perhaps she was lied to in the past.

'What crops do you grow?'

'We - I,' you correct yourself, 'raise yukkuri.'

'I've heard of leaders of wild yukkuri, called Dosu, that have special powers. Maybe they wanted to avenge their kind.'

She notices her coldness, and suddenly follows up, 'I'm sorry, it's been a long time, so some things may be wrong.'

'No,' you assert, 'thank you.'

She checks your face blearily, as if expecting deceit, before placing her head on the dashboard.

'You'll curse me soon enough.'

You peek at her inquisitively, but she seems to have fallen asleep. Poor, poor girl.

~

When you get home, she's still asleep. She doesn't wake when the car shudders to a halt outside the barn. You reach over, meaning to shake her awake - but see her restful face in the window's reflection, and decide against it.

Flan flies out of the barn as soon as she hears you unlocking the doors, and nestles into your scent happily before perching on your shoulder. You climb up and unlock the room door, then climb down again as Flan floats out.

You're usually asleep at this time, going to bed as soon as the sun goes down (and waking when it reappears), so it's almost stunning to see her frolick in the moonlight. As you carefully oopen the passenger's side, Flan lands on the car softly. She's breathing heavily, a sound of 'hu-hu-hu,' and it takes a moment for you to realise that she's laughing at you. How creepy it must seem for a guy to spend all day outside and come home with a girl!

You're thankful that Flan is mute, and that the girl is flat-chested and featureless, otherwise you'd probably be too embarassed to even unhook the seat belt. The rough tattered fabric of her clothing rubs against your hands as you scoop her up. She's quite light, only about three or four fully grown yukkuris. Your feet break the silence as you carefully step up the ladder, Flan resting on the bottom step to balance it. Making it up without issue, you exhale relief as you lay her on your aunt's bed, and cover her up. She curls up under the blankets, looking small and defenceless. With a hint of horror, you think you shouldn't be looking at her like that, and quickly change into your night clothes before falling asleep.

~

You awake, as you do every day, to Flan doing a tired crash landing onto your face. She's fatigued from the night shift, and you carefully settle her onto your pillow, before wrapping a small blanket over her.

Fortunately, you think, your guest didn't try to attack you while you were asleep. Speaking of her - you glance over at the smaller bed. There's nothing there. The bed is still warm. She can't have gone far.

You jump onto the ground floor, startling some livestock awake, but you don't pay any heed as you unlock the barn doors.

North and south - there's nobody on the horizon, and your truck's still in its place. The area around the barn is empty, too.

There's only one direction she could've hid - in the forest. Sure enough, there's a small clearing of bushes right after a gap in the barbed wire, and you follow that trail.

You have flashbacks to that one night - but you stiffen yourself, driving away your fear. The sunlight charges you. You don't care for dying - you need to see that it's her.

A glimmer of blue catches your eye, somewhere to the left, nd you fight your way through the vines, a figure visible through the trees - 

'Shion!' you call out hastily, as if some part of you wishes you could be friends - 

but she holds her palm up, and you stop obediently.

'You shouldn't have come,' she tells you in that husky voice of hers.

As you cautiously step into the clearing, the rotted bodies of a yukkuri nest littering the ground around her, she says -

'I am the poverty god.'

'Shion,' you breath slowly, and she meets your eyes. Those dark blue eyes, a thousand years old, that have seen everything, and relate an infinite loneliness - they search you.

A saying of your Auntie comes back to you.

"The dead are dead. You can't help them. Focus on the living world."

Shion closes her eyes, her hands crossing over her face, but she doesn't move - as if waiting for you to attack her.

'I'm disgusting, so do what you will.'

You step forward slowly, not wanting to trigger her.

'Shion,' you call out, a little clearer this time, 'I don't care.'

And with that - you fold your arms around her, grasping her, embracing her. Her eyes betray a moment of surprise, before she eventually leans in, resting her hands on your shoulders.

Her head tucks into your chest, the tears running down, as she shakes in your arms. She falls, and you kneel with her, not minding the mangled buns scattered around you. She can't control it - but all you see is her.

You've never gotten a chance to appreciate just how pretty she is, but the sunlight seems to shed her outer mask. Her stringy blue hair waves over her back, longer than anyone's you've seen before. It is scruffily tied back by a dirty ribbon, coated with old flecks of paper. You can still make out some characters. They were there to limit her. The brown hoodie, patched several dozen times, folds around her, several sizes too big, threads open in too many places. Her dark dress, a large light-colored patch breaking up the contrast, flows down her bony thighs. She's barefoot, her smooth feet resting against the ground.

Despite being in a battlefield -

It's romantic.

~

Shion's cried herself to sleep, and you rock her slowly.

You stand up, and carry her for the second time. The leaves crunch a little underneath your boots as you make your way through the forest, being careful not to trip on any stray logs.

She said she was the poverty god. If so - she should only have power over money. Yet she was able to destroy the road and the yukkuri nest. You theorise that she has the ability to lower the value of anything - in that sense, she didn't break the road, but merely caused it to turn into a broken state. In the same logic, she lowered the health of the yukkuri into death. But as you glance at a lone koMarisa, ten meters away from the forest, and notice how it's still moving - what would happen if she stopped her ability before the point of no return?

You click open the barn door, and Shion is awoken by it. She looks at you sleepily, before realising that you must have carried her all the way here. A tinge of red stings her cheeks, as she mumbles out an indistinct apology. You reply, 'it's okay, I brought you here because I wanted to try something.'

Her curiosity is piqued, and you can feel her interested gaze as she follows you into the barn. You tell her to wait upstairs, and she winces slightly at the chafing wood as she climbs up; you make a mental note to give her shoes. She sits down on the bed, watching you, as you move the ladder to the other side and climb up. The shaa of the lemon-juice spray is familiar, though it's a long time since you've used it. There are six koReimus and five koMarisas; you choose a Reimu with a lopsided bow. Her parents won't notice their loss; they never do. 

You cradle her with the palm of one hand as you climb up to the other side, and take out a plate with the other. The cutlery clinks on the top of the wooden clothes cabinet as you place the yukkuri on the plate. Shion stares at it belatedly as you fetch a cup, knife, chopsticks and orange juice.

You open up the mouth of the yukkuri, expertly filleting its lips. You drop the skin into your mouth - no point in wasting it - and chew it thoughtfully as you orange-juice its mouth shut, before stripping the bow off.

'Alright, Shion. Can you use your ability on this yukkuri?'

'I will try.'

She closes her eyes as blue smoke - it was blue smoke! - curls around her, seeping from her pores, and she places her hand on the hair of the koReimu, locking it down. The air fazes with the power of her magic, as it spins around her pointer finger - before suddenly sinking into the yukkuri. Instantly, the ko wakes up, eyes bulging, and you're glad you shut its mouth, because the choking is audible over the farm's din. 

One - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - eleven - twelve - thirteen seconds before the yukkuri stops moving. Shion removes her hand as the enchantment runs dry.

You cut the manjuu open, a faint puff of steam rising, and motion for Shion to eat it. She obliges, picking up a tiny piece. Her lips purse, a sign that it is bitter, but she grabs the whole thing and stuffs it into her mouth.

'Ah! Shion! You don't need to eat it all - ' but it's too late, she's already swallowed.

'No, no,' she gibbers, 'It's just that - I can't usually eat things, so it was really nice, and not many people have served me meals before.'

'Do you want another one?'

She averts her eyes from you in bashfulness. You want to see more of Shion's adorableness, so you get another koMarisa, and repeat the process.

'Shion - I want you to only do it for five seconds this time.' That should be adequate.

'I... have to redirect my power somewhere.'

'Hmmm… redirect it into the plate.'

The magic sinks into the floor as she stiffens intensively, letting the blue smoke build up once again. The double helix twirls around her finger, almost like a chorus of rings, as she jabs it into the yukkuri. She's like a character in one of Auntie's stories, about a man called Kenshiro who could kill anyone with one jab, or about a man called Jotaro who had a magic partner.

'Shion…' you say slightly guiltily, 'can you say "Star Finger" when you hit it?'

'Erm… alright!' she says confidently.

She raises her finger slightly - and stabs it down with a captivating 'Starru Finngaa!'. An image of a chibi Shion poking a manjuu crosses your mind, and you laugh.

One - two - three - four - five seconds with the twitching yukkuri, its eyeballs grostequely falling out - before Shion touches the plate, causing you to jump at the loud cracking sound. Oh well, you had your eye on a new set anyway. You slice open the dough skin, rummaging around for the symbolic shine of the paste core, which you quickly pull out and drop into the cup. You also drop the eyeballs into the cup, before walking over to the thermos and pouring some hot water into the cup. The core and sugar balls are already melting into it. Shion sits there obediently until you pass her the chopsticks and tell her to eat. She brings a small dollop of paste to her mouth - before smiling. She doesn't smile very often, and you know you are a very lucky man.

'It's a strange taste,' she admits.

'It's called "sweetness" ', you teach her.

She gobbles one half of the yukkuri down, before telling you to have the other half: 'here, have it.'

'You may eat it all,' you refuse graciously.

She mumbles a quick thank-you, her face a little red, before tasting it thoroughly. You let out another laugh, and Shion suddenly thrusts the chopsticks into your mouth, pouting delightfully. She's shared with you a lump of red beans paste, and as you eat it compliantly, you realise that it's oddly sweet. Not as sweet as when Del-kun brought some samples for you, but - sweet nonetheless. If the base livestock could be even sweeter - well, that just meant a sweeter bonus.

'Hey, Shion. I think - your ability will be useful for us.'

She withdraws the chopsticks as remuneration.

~

It's evening now, half past six. You passed the day talking with her, and she says that she'll leave the next morning. Not forever, but just to visit her friend. She knows a Celestial, apparently, who knows all about yukkuri. 

You've both taken a shower. Fortunately, Shion remembers to put on the pajamas you gave her before she walks out, otherwise things could've gotten extremely awkward. 

Her hair glistens in the sunset, her allure bewitching you better than the luminary in the sky, as she gazes off earnestly. 

~

After Flan flies onto the roof of the barn to keep watch, you relax in the bed. The soft quilt covers you warmly as the planks of the ceiling creak slightly. A quiet shuffle from the left causes you to look over, and you see Shion getting up. She lifts the blanket, causing the cold air to rush in - and before you can complain, she snuggles in with you. 

'[y/n],' she says, 'I love you.'

She looks to you, a faint blush plating across her face as she suddenly kisses you. Her eyelashes brush against yours like her smooth lips connecting to you, and you stop thinking about whether it is right or wrong, because you're caught up in the moment.

She pulls away timidly, and you know that she's romantically confused - not many people have been this kind to her before. You accidentally let the concern show - and it's too late, the moment disappears.

'You're only doing this because you pity me, right?' she asks fearfully.

No. You push her down, your arms locking her wrists, not out of anger to her, but rather to yourself.

'No, Shion…' - because in the short while you've known her - 'I see a kind girl who's suffered through so much. A child who likes playing with her food, and is addicted to dessert. And an adult who does not hesitate to sacrifice herself for others. Shion… I love you.'

Shion explodes with an intense blush, and you kiss her, your bodies touching, the sheen of tears and sweat mixing. She doesn't strain against you, and you sink into her body.

When you pull away, she's a little out of breath.

'[y/n]... if you're going to push me down like this, then do "it".'

She wants it so badly that you can't refuse.

Her hoodie easily goes off, revealing her light white skin. Her ribs push against her cloudy breasts as you rub her smooth stomach. Your fingers tease her erect nipples as she lets out a small moan, and you take off her dress to reveal wet white panties. You can't resist playing with her, slipping your hand over her sensitive place, enjoying the movie of her erotic ahegao.

You slide the cloth to the side when she implores you, 'please… put it in…' and you position your exposed crotch before her.

'Shion, are you sure about this?'

'Yes… p-please,' she mumbles out softly.

She's impossibly tight, and her heat focuses around your cock as you slide it in.

'A-ah!' she utters, as you touch her cervix. 'Noo… don't look at me,' she begs you, her voice involuntarily letting out lewd sounds. You slowly move, her body contorting in pleasure.

'Aah, a little f-faster~!'

You obey, her snatch clamping down on you intensely, as she grasps you tightly. The blush piles up on her face, and as you kiss her, she opens her lust-soaked eyes. When you pull back slightly, she tells you,

'Gaaah, [y/n], I-I'm… on t-the… e-edge… alreaaa...' she trails off, losing the energy.

You reply, 'I'm getting close too,' and attempt to pull out - but she locks her legs around you. 

'Shion - I need to - ' but she cuts you off with a kiss. As you go harder, she jerks, hyperextending her body, letting out a loud moan. Shion clenches herself, and everything is too much for you - you spasm inside her, spurting your seed deep inside her, calling out her name.

For a long time, the only sounds are Shion's breathing intertwined with yours, your hands held together.

~

Shion looks at you nonplussed as you equip her with some clothing and your old boots. She stands up carefully, walking around, before gifting you with a slight smile.

'Let's go hunt ourselves an Iku!' you announce.

You don't feel lonely as you unlock the door, nor as you stroll through the moonlight, nor as you step cautiously through the forest - because she's here with you.

She had asked her friend, a Celestial, for information on yukkuri, and after her Heavenliness had stopped teasing a blushing Shion about her first time, she revealed that the Dosu was probably still alive in the forest somewhere.

The crunch of the leaves is hidden by the crickets' buzz, as you slowly home in to the center of the forest. She holds on to the thick brown bark as support, following you over the various branches and streams; she claims your sense of direction is keener.

The familiar shade of tan, the sign of a yukkuri, seems so unusual in the dark forest. As you get closer, you realise the clearing is empty except for a large, fat manjuu, as tall as the trees, and ten times larger than even the largest pet yus at the city's size competitions. Its purple hair tinges the night, and as you look up, you see a bowler hat tied by a piece of string. A long, flat piece of white cloth hangs over it, like a tippet, frilled with a red edge.

You point the shotgun at it slowly, resting the crosshair between the closed eyes. The spread of the buckshot should be enough to hit the core. As your finger rests on the trigger, Shion falls back regardfully. This is your family's war.

BANG.

The shotgun misfires.

The Dosu opens its great red eyes, its pupils resting on you. The characteristic glow of static lights up the frills of its shawl, and you click open the shotgun. The casing has detonated; the barrel of the shotgun is scarred and melted. It won't be shooting anything. 

You think - you're dead - but Shion suddenly appears, jerking you to the side. Her hands rest on you just for a moment, as if she thought you were going to die - then she pushes you away.

The giant yukkuri turns its eyes to her, almost tauntingly. It thinks it's seen it all.

'Fuck you.' Her voice crawls through the forest, and blue smoke rides around her, as she raises a single hand. The energy swirls around her arm, a mesmerizing double helix, and as the yukkuri sneers at her, shooting its lightning -

'Spellcard: The Curse Underneath.'

The roar of the blast mixes with the crackle of the bolt, filling the arena with smoke. The sharp pang of static runs through your arms, as your clothes start fraying from the wind and sparks. You close your eyes, the heat dissipating upwards, and when you return -

Shion is standing on one side, her hands on her knees, her breath heavy. She's exhausted. On the other side - the Dosu has somehow made it through alive. without any visible scratches.

It smirks, then opens its mouth, and for the first time, you hear it speak.

'Yuhahahaha! You thought you could challenge the great Dosu, but you were wrong! Now, I will serve FEVERISH JUSTICE!'

The hum builds up again, but Shion can't do better than to stumble to you - wait, you? - and you realise too late that it's aiming for you -

but Flan, who is supposed to guard the barn, knocks into your head, as the lightning burns a thin stroke onto your head, and you tumble onto the soil.

Flan's dead. You know even before you look, for the acrid smell stabs into your nose. Flan, who was always by your side. Flan, who kept intruders out. Flan, whom you have never truly thanked. And as Shion meets your eyes - you realise that you have to protect her. The mist curls around you, filling you with a buzz of power - you make a fist, tension overwhelming - you pull it back, your senses sharp with Shion's spellcard - before slamming it into the Iku. It explodes, scattering bits of bean paste into the forest, the thud carring through the air for seconds.

It's over.

You flounder into Shion, hugging her weakly, as you both sit down on the bean-paste coated dirt.

'Shion…' you tell her, 'thank you.'

And with that you collapse into her, because you both only have each other.

~

Two weeks after the incident, on November 30th, you visit Del again. He's visibly cheered up since last time, and slaps you on the back brightly.

'How's life, mate?' he asks.

'Well - ' and you think back to a bet five years ago - 'I got myself a girlfriend.'

He chuckles incredulously. 'And you didn't show me?'

'She's with a friend right now,' you reply, but leave out the bit about having a banquet with an immortal hermit in Heaven.

'I'm not going to give you that ten dollars until she admits it to me,' he grins.

'Alrighty, alrighty,' you accept goodheartedly. 'Just know that my produce will be better with a second worker.'

After the cages are sold, Del promising to watch the buyers' feedback -

'Oh! Did you see the news?' he asks.

'No, why?'

'Well, there was an explosion in the countryside, and your farm seems to be near there.'

'I often light up fireworks - that's probably it,' you shrug off.

He nonetheless warns you not to go into the forest too soon.

Why?

They say that a youkai haunts this land.


End file.
